The One Where the Doctor Returns
by Janitor Roundballs
Summary: An old lover returns to visit Chandler and Monica, the happily married (?) couple.


**The One Where the Doctor Returns**

"Oh, Mr. Chandler Bing, I am so glad to be your wife," Monica sighed into Chandler's naked armpit. They lounged together in a tangle of sheets on a Sleep Number® memory foam mattress.

"I'm glad to be your husband, Mrs. Chandler (Monica Geller) Bing," he replied, nuzzling her head with a knuckle. He glanced down at her sniffing his armpit, smirked, and shoved her head deep into the sweaty, hairy pit.

Monica choked and pushed against his ribs, but Chandler only laughed, throwing his head back in raucousness. She dug her nails into his soft, pliable flesh, drawing a single drop of blood. He relaxed and let her loose.

"CHANDLER, I ALMOST SUFFOCATED!"

"I know, wasn't it great!?" he laughed, gesturing to the live studio audience, who howled with laughter.

"haha I guess you're right, you really are the funniest one on the show, Friends™. Anyway, what do you feel like doing now that we're past Season 6 and happily married?"

"We could have kids," Chandler said, biting his tongue in anticipation of a response.

"Would you really–"

"HAHAHAHA LIKE I WOULD WANT THAT!" he cackled, spit spackling Monica's face.

"Thanks, my face was feeling a bit dry. I haven't moisturized in a few days."

"Hun, you know you should. Otherwise, it burns the skin if you wait too long."

"I know, dear, I know."

They stared up at the ceiling together. Chandler's armpit hair bristled in the cool breeze of the air-conditioned bedroom, and Monica's face cracked under the arid atmosphere.

"Just another ceiling," Monica whispered.

"It's the same ceiling."

"Oh, I guess you're right."

"Do you remember other ceilings?"

"I…I remember some ceilings better than others," she said.

Chandler's silence was palpable (whatever that means).

"Chandy, are you okay? What's bothering you?"

"You remember his ceiling, don't you?"

"Whose ceiling, baby?"

"YOU KNOW WHO!" Chandler shot up out of bed. In unbridled fury, he lifted the lamp on the end table and smashed it against the wall. The lamp exploded into a million (not exact count) pieces. His hand started profusely bleeding, like a boat springs a sudden leak.

"Your hand! Let me take care of that for you." Monica's voice quavered. "I'll grab some bandages for you. You'll be fixed up in a jiffy."

Chandler rested his forehead against the cold windowpane. _Was the glass of the window cold from the outside air or the air-conditioned inside air? Does air temper glass? What is atmosphere?_ – Some of Chandler's thoughts flowing through his brain at this moment.

Monica rushed out of the room and returned with a handful of gauze and stitches.

"You're going to stich me back together, Mon?"

"Yeah, sweetie, I'm always prepared, remember how often Kevin Bright stressed my OCD? I'm _always_ prepared."

"Let me ask you one or maybe two thing(s)."

"Fire away, skipper."

Staring out the window with his head against the window, he asked, "Who taught you how to sew? Was it a doctor?"

"Chandler, don't do this."

"Was it a doctor?" he repeated, his voice cold like the air-conditioned window.

"I don't understand what you're getting at."

"Was it. A doctor. That's all I'm asking."

Monica was silent.

"It was a doctor, wasn't it? And I bet you remember his ceiling because of the perfect glasses he prescribed for you. You probably remember every grain of that ceiling; such fine clarity with such pure adjusted sight. We all know who I'm talking about. The DOCTOR you loved. The Great Ophthalmologist, Dr. Richard Burke of Season 2 fame. Your lover for a handful of episodes."

"He was–"

"A great performer? An exceptional lover? We remember the mustache, Mon. You don't need to remind us (play flashback of Richard here)." Chandler touched a sorrowful hand to the window. "You weren't the only one who loved him, Geller Girl."

"You loved him?"

"OF COURSE! I loved him like a son loves a father. Don't pervert this, you sexual deviant. This was a pure love. My parents were divorced, which is a greater sentence than death to a child, alone and lost. My father was a crossdresser…What I needed was a real man to look up to. And that's when we met Richard."

"We didn't meet Richard. I knew Richard since I was a girl growing into my body. He was a friend of my father's. Hell, Ross knew Richard before you did."

"You speak such insolence, no wonder the air is so cold in here. No respect, no warmth. Your heart bleeds only for him."

"Did Joey have this weird fascination with Richard, too?"

"WE ALL KNOW WHO THE REAL ROSS AND RACHEL WERE. Richard and Monica. No one gave a flying FUCK if Ross and Rachel ended up together. We all bet Dr. Burke would return. And he did. He almost ruined our relationship. I bet you remember. I certainly do. On the day I tried to propose and did propose, he was there. Always watching. Always waiting for me to slip up."

"Chandy, stop this nonsense."

"Nonsense?" Tears were streaming down Matthew's face. "How can you be so cruel? Joey and I are like lost brothers, and uniting us was Richard and his glorious mustache. Oh, that mustache. We tried replicating it, but we could never muster even one hair as thick and manly as his."

"I do remember that mustache. It tickled in all the right places."

"Don't be vulgar, Mon. This isn't the time."

"You're right, I'm sorry." Monica bit a cracker and chewed, watching Chandler.

"The pain we felt when you broke up with Richard. We couldn't see him anymore. Gone, like a bandage rudely and unforgivingly ripped off before its time. Our skin, pimpled, angry, agitated. We needed ointment. Joey found his salve in the form of crack cocaine. I found mine in you…"

"Oh, Chandy," Monica whispered, inching closer to him. She swallowed the bit of cracker in her mouth. "I never knew you were so broken up about it."

"I wanted you, so I could be closer to him."

"Wha–"

"I know, crazy, right? He'd never adopt me as his son. He was too old. He didn't want any more kids. After all, that's why you broke it off. Yet, I wanted to feel what it was like to be Richard. He wasn't just a father figure. He wasn't just a role model. He was who I wanted to be." Chandler turned toward Monica and embraced her, his blood running down her back, forgotten; the emotional torment overshadowing the physical pain.

"Come here, baby, I'll take care of you. I love you for you, not for Richard."

Chandler whispered something too quiet to hear.

"What's that? Say it louder, so the audience can hear." At this prompt, the entire audience leaned forward.

"I want you to love me for Richard, as Richard."

"You…are you okay with that?"

"Are you?"

Monica was silent for a long moment. "It's all I've ever wanted. I've never forgotten Richard. I've never forgotten his Richard, either."

"STOP IT!" Chandler screamed, tearing away from their embrace. "Why do you always have to be so inappropriate? No one appreciates it!" He stood back, huffing and puffing, his anger warming the coldness of the room.

It was eerily silent. Then, the air-conditioning turned back on. Like a switch, Monica and Chandler were in each other's arms again, lips on lips, tongue on tongue.

Their clothes flew into the air like living pieces of fabric, and their limbs danced with one another in the traditional mating style of humanoid species.

"Oh, Chandy, I want you to Bing me so hard tonight."

"No. Tonight, call me Richard."

"Okay, Dr. Burke. Stick it in me!"

They rolled around on their super comfortable and worth the money mattress for a solid five minutes, then the foreplay was over. Time to get serious. Richard unraveled his underwear, and Monica lotioned her face and other parts. When they were both ready (compliance is important), Dr. Burke slid into Mon like a young boy sliding down a wet, eager Slip'N Slide™.

A beautiful union.

As they heated the cold room, Monica breathed, "Oh yes, Richard, deeper, deeper, impregnate me with the kids you never wanted!"

"Oh, baby, I grew a mustache on my penis just thinking about it!" Richard shouted. "I just want to be Richard and live a long, healthy, satisfying life with you, Monica. I want to raise Little Richard and be a happy family. I don't ever want to divorce, either. Only happiness."

"Oh, yes, oh yes, ohhhhhhhh yes! I feel it, I feel it happening!" Courtney Cox yelled in jubilant joy.

"Wait, not yet, baby." Richard pulled out. "JOEY, time for a good spit roasting."

"Look, Mon, it's me, Richard," Joey said, walking in dressed as Richard Burke. "I'm here to sex with you in double."

"Oh yeah, more please!"

"Did someone say more?" Tom Selleck said, his voice echoing throughout the air-conditioned room. He suddenly burst from the ceiling, naked and greased. "That's right, I've been waiting for this moment my entire career and life. Let's do this, Mon. You, me, me, and me."

They did the sex late into the evening and were able to enjoy a long meal afterward, though it did take some scrubbing to remove all that sperm from inside their buttholes, peeholes, and vaginaholes. Totally worth it.

"I always wanted to be Richard. Now, I am Richard, I sucked Richard off, and I was fucked by Richard. What more could Chandler Bing want? Nothing," Matthew Perry said.

"Yeah, I know, right, that was great. I'm gonna go back to doing chicks. But first," Joey said, motioning to his crack pipe, "I'm going to smoke this right nice."

"That was the most incredible experience of my life," Monica said.

"Yeah, let's stay married forever," Richandlerd said.

"Sure thing. Do you mind turning down the AC, though?"

The audience laughed so hard they exploded. Good night.

 _The end._


End file.
